not that it matters
Got up quite grumpily today as i prepared for my early morning follow up with doctor Yeo at SNEC all the way in Outram park. Wasn't sure what to expect but given my blurry vision and the perpetual haziness to my vision, i must admit i did not have my hopes up high. So it came as a pleasant surprise to me when i managed to pry from the opto-something (the bugger who checks eye power) that my right eye's power was 300 from the usual 800, though it makes me wonder why i always have to painstakingly ask for such information.
I sat waiting for my turn to see the doctor in a considerably chirpier mood than before. (mommy as giving me grief over, well, everything as usual) As i entered though his first few words were quite stunning for me as he told us my eye pressure was at a whopping 42 and quickly asked for my eye to be anaesthised for the more accurate but painful pressure check. 42, that was double the usual pressure of 20-25 that he told me a month before and i was more than worried with the condition of my eyes. As he checked i hoped hard that it was a mistake by the grossly inaccurate machine the evaluation room uses.
Alas, he sat back and sighed, his words resonating in my mind as he repeated that it was indeed 42. He proceeded to the next problem, my cataracts. Previously he felt that as it was caused by injury, it should resolve by itself soon but as he takes another look, he sadly says it is too severe to go away by itself and while it would pose no large problem, i would have to undergo the surgry. A gauge of how severe it was: he could show the cataract to my mother whom had no experience with any such situation.
Surprisingly this came up as the good news, in a way, especially compared to the first. After all, the cataracts replacement has a 99% chance of success (of failure, i'd rather not think about it) and after the surgery the vision of my eye would be at worst 50 degrees or so. While having to face surgery and the usual problems to follow were indeed troublesome, they occupied no significant portion of my thoughts as they could be brushed aside for the next one or two years. Besides the trouble of intolerance to sunlight and blurry vision would be inexistant if i can't see in the first place.
The true problem lay in the onset of glaucoma. Armed with spiffy, expensive new eyedrops courtesy of the friendly pharmacy staff i hope to drop the pressure in my eye to an acceptable level by the next follow-up, set worryingly for next friday. Of course, other than the eyedrops there really isn't much i can do but hope and pray and watch passively as the condition of my eye changes, hopefully for the better.
To different thoughts, the renovators for the kitchen were supposed to come today to put in concrete and whats-nots and after a long lecture by my mother for me to force them to construct some barrier thing (she has a meeting) i was unexpectedly eager for their arrival to see how the cheerful muscular chinese dude would try to comprehend what i would try to put across.
By 2 i was wondering when exactly they were coming. By 4 i was decided to go slurp some kopi at the hawker centre to chill before they came. By 6 (now) i was convinced they were busy praying for rain (which started in a downpour a while ago) so that they could slack off for the day. I wonder indeed how my mother will start screaming when she gets back. I actually sms-ed her but she hasn't replied.
Maybe she crushed the phone in anger.
Oh well, its their lives.
I sat waiting for my turn to see the doctor in a considerably chirpier mood than before. (mommy as giving me grief over, well, everything as usual) As i entered though his first few words were quite stunning for me as he told us my eye pressure was at a whopping 42 and quickly asked for my eye to be anaesthised for the more accurate but painful pressure check. 42, that was double the usual pressure of 20-25 that he told me a month before and i was more than worried with the condition of my eyes. As he checked i hoped hard that it was a mistake by the grossly inaccurate machine the evaluation room uses.
Alas, he sat back and sighed, his words resonating in my mind as he repeated that it was indeed 42. He proceeded to the next problem, my cataracts. Previously he felt that as it was caused by injury, it should resolve by itself soon but as he takes another look, he sadly says it is too severe to go away by itself and while it would pose no large problem, i would have to undergo the surgry. A gauge of how severe it was: he could show the cataract to my mother whom had no experience with any such situation.
Surprisingly this came up as the good news, in a way, especially compared to the first. After all, the cataracts replacement has a 99% chance of success (of failure, i'd rather not think about it) and after the surgery the vision of my eye would be at worst 50 degrees or so. While having to face surgery and the usual problems to follow were indeed troublesome, they occupied no significant portion of my thoughts as they could be brushed aside for the next one or two years. Besides the trouble of intolerance to sunlight and blurry vision would be inexistant if i can't see in the first place.
The true problem lay in the onset of glaucoma. Armed with spiffy, expensive new eyedrops courtesy of the friendly pharmacy staff i hope to drop the pressure in my eye to an acceptable level by the next follow-up, set worryingly for next friday. Of course, other than the eyedrops there really isn't much i can do but hope and pray and watch passively as the condition of my eye changes, hopefully for the better.
To different thoughts, the renovators for the kitchen were supposed to come today to put in concrete and whats-nots and after a long lecture by my mother for me to force them to construct some barrier thing (she has a meeting) i was unexpectedly eager for their arrival to see how the cheerful muscular chinese dude would try to comprehend what i would try to put across.
By 2 i was wondering when exactly they were coming. By 4 i was decided to go slurp some kopi at the hawker centre to chill before they came. By 6 (now) i was convinced they were busy praying for rain (which started in a downpour a while ago) so that they could slack off for the day. I wonder indeed how my mother will start screaming when she gets back. I actually sms-ed her but she hasn't replied.
Maybe she crushed the phone in anger.
Oh well, its their lives.
posted by slipperdan at 5:45 PM
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